Happy Birthday
by Andral
Summary: Cuddy thought her Birthday couldn’t get any worse. Therefore it could only get better… House Cuddy!


Happy Birthday

Summary: Cuddy thought her Birthday couldn't get any worse. Therefore it could only get better…

Disclaimer: Characters belong to House, M.D.

Rating: M

Lisa Cuddy opened her eyes. She stole a sideways glance at her alarm clock and read the time as a quarter to seven. Then, remembering what day it was, she groaned. She hauled herself out of bed and after a quick, light breakfast, she showered and dressed for work.

Cuddy arrived at work at half past eight. The nurse at the desk smiled at her as she walked past and she returned the smile professionally.

When she reached her office she put her briefcase on top of her desk and sat down. She stared for a moment before reaching into a drawer for some files. The first one contained a profile of hers. She read the first two lines.

Name: Cuddy, Lisa, MD.

DOB: September 12th 1967

She passed over the file and took out the other one. She then dated it for today, writing 9/12/06 in the top corner. She sighed and was just about to get down to paperwork when someone came through the door.

"Dr Wilson," she greeted him warmly as he came in. "What do you need?" She stood up and walked around the desk.

"I just wanted to say Happy Birthday," he said. Cuddy was taken by surprise.

"Thank you," she said. He squirmed for a bit and then sprung forward to plant a small kiss on her cheek. He put his hands on her arms.

"Happy Birthday, Lisa," he said. She smiled genuinely for the first time that day.

"Thanks James," she kissed him on the cheek. He grinned at her.

"Have a nice day."

xXx

Wilson left the office and was annoyed to find Gregory House standing outside, leaning on his cane.

"So, Wilson. Finally stopped preying on young nurses? Going after the big boss lady now?" Wilson glared at him.

"It's Cuddy's Birthday," he explained irritably. House's smug expression didn't change. "Or did you forget?" House heaved a sigh.

"No," he said. "I didn't.  
And he limped away while Wilson tried to make sense of it.

xXx

Cuddy put down the phone for the second time that morning. She had just been speaking to a potentially large donor. The first call had been from her mother wishing her a Happy Birthday. She was the only other person to do that so far. Cuddy didn't like her Birthday. The fact that she was turning thirty-nine wasn't something she felt was worth celebrating. It just meant that in another year she would be forty.

She was going to spend her Birthday on her own. Cuddy didn't so much have friends as she did acquaintances. The thought was slightly depressing. She could think of one person who had once been a very good friend. She was slightly disappointed that it had been his best friend and not him who had remembered her Birthday. James was her friend too, but there was something special and unique about…

The phone rang and she instinctively snatched it up.

"Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. This is Lisa cuddy."

"Lisa!" came the voice from the other end of the line brightly.

"Oh, hi Jared," she said, putting her head in her hand. "What's up?"

"Can't I ring my big sister to say Happy Birthday if I want to?"

"Thanks Jared," she smiled.

"Sorry again that I can't come and see you. It's just, Kath's mum is really sick and we need to hang around here."

"I know. It's fine, Jared, really." She said good bye after chatting to her brother and hung up. In many ways she was jealous of his life. She had a career to die for and yet he had a family. When she was younger the idea of kids had crossed her mind several times. Her job had quickly stamped out that possibility.

She looked up as she saw a familiar movement outside her office. House limped past her door and she felt a slight disappointment that he hadn't been coming to see her, even if it wasn't to say Happy Birthday.

xXx

House sat in his desk chair, legs up on his desk. He fingered something in his pocket. It was six 'o' clock by his watch. He didn't know why he was still at work an hour after he would have usually made a run for home. But for some reason, sitting in his office by himself in the dark was comforting. He had just finished a case and would normally have looked forward to leaving the hospital. But he was unsure about what he had planned to do when he did leave work.

He looked up when he saw Cuddy walk unexpectedly into his office. He couldn't think of a reason why she would be here.

Cuddy put her hands on her hips. There were no lights on, but a bar of neon white from the corridor outside fell across House's face, framing his violently blue eyes. She blinked, stung by them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," he replied. She looked at her watch.

"It's after six. This is so unusual for you. I was worried for the wellbeing of my hospital." House snorted.

"Relax, Cuddy," he said. He was sure of himself now. "I'll go now if you want me to." He rocked back, sweeping his legs off his desk and springing to his feet, his cane leading.

He brushed past her and her breath caught in her throat. She was again disappointed that he hadn't said Happy Birthday. Maybe he knew that she didn't like her Birthday and was just being nice. But then again, maybe he was just being House: rude and insensitive. She pushed away all of those thoughts. It was hard for her to admit what House really meant to her; especially when she wasn't entirely sure. And yet, she couldn't deny that she wished he was still her friend, or maybe something more.

xXx

Cuddy sat curled up on her couch in a tracksuit eating a microwave meal she had just cooked. She had thought about putting on a movie but had decided in the end just to watch random TV programs.

She heard a hollow, wooden knock. Surprised, she got up and walking over to the door, she opened it. She was even more surprised when she saw House standing there, leaning in the door frame. His left hand was in his jacket pocket and his cane was under his right hand. He looked up at her from beneath overhanging brows. Then he lifted his head. Cuddy was speechless.

"Happy Birthday," he said. His hand rebounded from his pocket and offered her a small package. Cuddy took the gift wordlessly. House craned his neck and peered into her living room. "No party?" he asked.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Well, if you'd had people over, I would have given you this and left, but, in the more likely event that you were alone, I came to keep you company."

"Why is this more likely?" she inquired, slightly hurt at his stab.

"Come on, Cuddy. I know you. It's a work night, it's your Birthday; no big deal when you're getting older." He looked at her warily before his next comment. "And I'm your only friend." It was said with a certain amount of bite. Cuddy's jaw dropped in offence.

"I have plenty of friends," she insisted. "And today, Wilson said Happy Birthday to me, unlike some people I could mention."

"I will take the hint that you mean me. But I said Happy Birthday to you too. And," he said, looking at his watch. "I believe that 7:49 is still counted as today." Cuddy didn't know what to say to something like that. It was so like House to do that to her. He annoyed the hell out of her, but she still wanted him as her friend. And moments before, when he had said plainly that he was just that, she had felt herself lifted as well as outraged at the main implication of the comment.

Cuddy sighed. She stepped back from the doorway.

"Come in," she told him. He limped over the threshold and she rolled her eyes as he made himself comfortable and welcome on her couch with his legs stretched out.

"House," she scolded. "Shoes off."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, slipping off his sneakers obediently. "Love the whole dominatrix thing. What's next? You gonna order me to take off my pants, boss?" Cuddy smiled humourlessly.

"Very cute," she said sarcastically. "Do you want a drink? I've got champagne." She took it out of the fridge.

"What? Birthday bottle unopened?"

"I was going to get around to it eventually."

"Sure you were," he said sceptically. "Yes please." He got up and limped over to her. She tried in vain to pop the cork and failed. Placing the bottle firmly and aggressively down on the bench, she suddenly burst into tears. She turned away from House, who was taken completely by surprise, and wiped her eyes, embarrassed. She sniffed, the tears running down her face.

House looked extremely awkward for a moment. Then he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. He lifted her chin with one big hand and used the other to wipe away a particularly large tear. His fingers were soft and delicate except for the tips which were loosely callused.

"Hey, hey, hey," he protested. "What's wrong?" he asked caringly. Forgetting her earlier embarrassment, Cuddy fell into him, hugging him, putting her head against his chest. His eyebrows shot up in shock but then he just decided to go with the flow and put his arms around her.

"I had the worst day," she sobbed into his shoulder. "I mean, I've had some pretty bad ones, but…" She stopped.

"It was your Birthday," he finished for her. She nodded sheepishly. He grinned and squeezed her affectionately. She welcomed his hug with no trace of embarrassment now. "Here," he said and let go. He popped the champagne cork for her. "We'll sit down," he poured two flutes, "and you can tell me all about it." She used a tissue to wipe her eyes and nose which were all red. He wasn't bothered by the damp spot on his jacket where she had been crying. He grinned at her face. "You look awful," he joked. She sniffed.

"Thanks," Cuddy said groggily. "I think." She picked up her champagne flute and he picked up his.

"To Cuddy," said House. "Happy Birthday to the best boss in the world." He chinked his glass on hers and their eyes met for a moment. He gazed warmly at her and she felt her heart swell. He shook his head, breaking the eye contact and draining his glass. Cuddy sighed and sipped her own. He limped back to the couch and Cuddy sat down in one of her armchairs. "So," he said. "How about this story?"

"It's not much. In fact, you'll be disappointed. I was just speaking to a donor this afternoon who is considering withdrawing his money."

"Maybe you should have told him it was your Birthday."

"Yeah, that really would have helped," she agreed sarcastically. "And then," she continued. "I started stressing about my age."

"Typical woman," House muttered. Cuddy giggled, tearfully. "Look, I've turned forty before. It's no big deal."

"I am generally emotional anyway, so everything was blown out of proportion. And then there was…" She paused, catching herself before she poured her whole heart out to House. "…something else."

"Ooh, now you've got me interested," he said, leaning closer to her. "What else happened?"

"Nothing, I… I just got really annoyed because I thought you'd forgotten my Birthday." House raised an eyebrow.

"Right," he drawled. "Now that's…"

"…that's nothing. It's nothing. It was just because of everything else that happened." She didn't tell him that it was what had started her in a bad mood. That annoyance had made her vulnerable to more annoyance. And stressing. Stressing plagued her. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I told you."

"Because I asked."

"Yeah. Why _did_ you do that?"

"I'm sorry too." He had noticed something interesting as soon as he'd walked in and his eyes strayed to it now. He thought it would be a good way to change the subject.

There was a guitar in the corner of the room which hadn't been there all those months ago during his medically relevant break-in. "You play?" he asked.

"What?" She was confused by the sudden turn of the conversation.

"The guitar," he said, pointing. "Do you play? It… wasn't here last time when I, ah, searched your house." Cuddy followed his gaze to the acoustic guitar standing up in the corner.

"Oh that. No, not anymore. I used to, when I was in college. But I was very bad. I'm tone deaf. That was a gift from my brother's family. The kids seemed to think that I needed to start playing again. But I'm far too busy. I got it as an early Birthday present about three weeks ago. That's why you've never seen it."

"The kids were right," said House. "Do you mind if I…" He gestured for the guitar.

"I thought you played the piano," she said.

"I do," he said. "But I also play the guitar. Multi-talented old me. May I?" She nodded and leaned a long way over to reach the neck of the guitar and handed the wooden object to House. He spun into upright stance and assumed a playing position with the guitar in his grip. Then he slid his left hand towards the middle and began plucking at the strings with his right hand. Cuddy recognised the tune as the introduction to George Harrison's _Here Comes the Sun_. She smiled. Then he sang high and softly, "_Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo, here comes the sun, and I say, it's all right._" He ran his hands up and down the guitar, building up to the song but stopping suddenly.

He looked up and saw Cuddy watching him contentedly. He felt slightly embarrassed. She realised that he could see her and quickly altered her expression.

"Sorry," he said.

"No. Don't apologise," she replied. "That was really good. You have a lovely voice." House averted his eyes. He blushed briefly. Cuddy was acting weird. Or maybe he'd just never noticed before. Maybe he hadn't had an opportunity to pay such close attention before.

"Thank you. Wanna hear more of my angelic singing?" he asked more confidently. Cuddy nodded enthusiastically. He began playing and singing _Happy Birthday_.

_Happy Birthday to you_

_Happy Birthday to you_

_Happy Birthday dear Lisa_

_Happy Birthday to you_

Cuddy was shocked when he called her Lisa. House noticed and quickly explained, "It's tradition. You usually don't call somebody by their last name when you sing _Happy Birthday_. It just seems so wrong." She nodded. He had tried to cover it up but that wasn't the only reason he had called her by her first name. He had actually been trying to be nice, perhaps without even knowing it.

Cuddy got up and muttered something about the kitchen. House started to play random songs. She could hear bits of _Cats in the Cradle_ and _Peace Train_ as she walked into the other room. Her eyes fell upon the gift House had brought her. It was wrapped in cheap, commercial gift wrap with pictures of balloons and there was no card. She found herself picking up the small package and tearing at the paper. House was playing the theme to Brokeback Mountain when she finished unwrapping and the present fell out.

House heard Cuddy gasp from the kitchen. He smiled satisfactorily and stopped playing. He looked over his shoulder as she came back into the living room where he was seated.

"House…" she stuttered. She was holding a gold necklace in her hands, marvelling and gaping at it. It was a simple, delicate chain. He grinned at her.

"You like it?"

"You really shouldn't have," she said.

"Don't worry. It was cheap." He wasn't lying. He had wanted to get Cuddy a present; but something too expensive would have been interpreted as liking her. He did. But nobody needed to know that.

Cuddy smiled at him. She held it up against her skin. He stood up, placing the guitar against the couch, and peered closely at it. "It looks nice," he noted, congratulating himself on his choice.

"Could you…" Cuddy began. House's eyes swivelled up to meet hers. His throat went dry and then wet.

"Sure," he replied croakily. She turned around and lifted up her hair. He reached around her and took the necklace by the clasps, pulling them back. He clicked them together but didn't move from his position. He placed a hand on her shoulder, staring straight ahead where their reflection was in a mirror hanging on the wall. Cuddy watched herself and House in the mirror, conscious all the while of his hand touching her.

Their eyes finally broke away from their reflection and Cuddy glanced at her shoulder. House looked down to where his hand was and saw Cuddy reach across her body to stroke it. He shivered at her touch. Then he twisted his wrist and engulfed her hand with his. She turned around to face him, House rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Then he used both hands to pull her waist to him, their bodies touching. She put hers on his shoulders and they stayed like that for a while, comfortably together, just staring at each other.

Then Cuddy broke eye contact and House dropped his arms.

"I have to go," he said.

"House…"

"Happy Birthday and all that jazz." He started to pull his shoes on without looking at her.

"House," she said louder. He was putting on his right sneaker but stopped and looked up at her.

"Yes?"

"Please don't go," she said. "I… I don't want to be alone on my Birthday."

"Well, there's only three and a half hours left of your Birthday, so I'm sure you'll survive." He was rushing again and refusing to meet her gaze.

"Please," she said softly. He paused and then kicked his undone shoes off again. He used his cane to stand up and walked right over to her until he was very close.

"Cuddy… I…" He fidgeted and stuttered. This was a moment to remember. House was speechless. She put a hand on his stubbled cheek and he froze, relaxing into her touch. Then they kissed. The contact was mutual and they closed their eyes, opening their mouths, deepening the kiss, adding their arms into the foray, pressing their bodies together hungrily. They didn't stop for a moment. Even when they needed oxygen they took only short, sharp breaths, never drawing away from the other one's lips, diving back into the kiss almost instantly. Cuddy moved forward and House's knees buckled under the arm of the couch. He fell with Cuddy on top of him. Instead of losing his nerve he smiled, encouraging her. She jammed her tongue down his throat (in a manner of speaking) and twisted it roughly with his.

"I want you," Cuddy breathed, her lips lightly caressing House's. "I want you now."

"Happy Birthday," House whispered and kissed her neck, snaking his hands up her tee shirt. She ducked her head and lifted up her arms so that he could pull it off. Then she slipped off his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt, nipping at his neck all the while. Impatiently, he threw it off and then pulled his tee shirt over his head. Cuddy put her hands on his chest and kissed him deeply. She nibbled his lower lip and he ran his tongue across her teeth. Carefully, he reached around her and undid her bra, easing the straps down over her shoulders and discarding it on the floor.

"Now," Cuddy ordered. "Right here, right now." House's breathing was ragged, not inches from Cuddy's face. She could feel the pressure from his groin underneath her body.

"As you wish," he purred. She straddled him, wedging his hips between her thighs and unzipped his fly impatiently.

"Wait," said House. He reached down and pulled his jacket up off the floor. He fished around in the pocket and retrieved a condom packet.

"What a coincidence," Cuddy noted with mock surprise. "Did you arrive here planning to jump me?"

"Actually it was just left over from another time. I like to be prepared 'cause you never know."

Then Cuddy peeled off his jeans. The ugly scar on his right thigh revealed itself but she didn't look at it more than once. She dropped his jeans to the floor and he helped strip her of her own pants and underwear, at the same time negotiating the condom. House pulled down his boxer briefs and she slid onto him.

He exhaled pleasurably as he entered her. They moved together, awkwardly at first but then with more rhythm. Cuddy ran her fingers through his ruffled hair. She kissed him briefly and then a blissful noise escaped her throat as she came. House moaned and gasped. He caught his hands in her hair.


End file.
